Tales of the Sinestro Corps
by F.O. Reiley
Summary: Once known as the greatest Green Lantern of all, Thaal Sinestro of Sector 1417 was expelled from his Corps for abuse of power. Now armed with the Yellow Light of Fear, he has gathered the most frightening beings in the universe to form THE SINESTRO CORPS.
1. Xenophobia  Part 1

Disclaimer: Thank God I do not own any of the DC characters. Otherwise, we wouldn't have Green Lantern: Rebirth, The Sinestro Corps War, Blackest Night, Brightest Day, etc... And I wouldn't have been able to write this.

Rating: T for Violence

Author's Note: This will be an anthology series similar in format to Batman and Robin: three chapters will form a single story arc. Hope to publish monthly (as they do in the comics industry), but I may update sooner. Please enjoy and review.

Note: This chapter has been edited.

* * *

**Tales of the Sinestro Corps # 1**

**Xenophobia - Part 1**

**Welcome to the Sinestro Corps**

Daxam. Sector 1760.

Imagine a world of beings who have achieved the **peak** of their potential. Around you, people run faster than a **speeding bullet** and leap from place to place **in a single bound**. They see the world around them with the **curiosity** and **imagination** of a young child and shape it with more **power** than a locomotive. And up in the sky, you don't see **birds**, you don't see **planes**…

You see the **world of the supermen**.

Now, imagine that world crumbling around you: bullets coming to a **halt**, locomotives **losing** their drive, curious eyes going **blind**, and up in the sky, **only** birds, **only** planes. Sad, but such is the way of things. Every **star**, no matter how bright **burns out**.

This is the story of **Daxam**: a **proud** civilization gifted with amazing powers by the once **yellow** light of the planet's sun. To preserve their purity, they detached themselves form the universe and rejected all things **strange** and **foreign**.

Then, the sun died. As yellow light turned to red, and the Daxamites lost the powers they had enshrined, their pride, as it so often does, became **fear**. They came to fear the aliens they once **looked down on**. Powerless, they were now exposed to those who envied their former glory.

Indeed, the invaders came, clad mockingly in the yellow that had been the source of their strength. Led by the barbaric **Mongul**, the invaders left vast cities in smoldering **ruin** and **enslaved** the once mighty people.

All seemed lost, but their beloved sun would not abandon its people. Through the sacrifice of one their own, Valor shined yellow once more and gave Daxam the power to drive the invaders away.

But it would not last.

**Sodam Yat**, Daxam's favored son while it lasted, **fell** from the sky, and Senator **Diro Yat**, was searching for him, looking to put him **back in his place**.

000000000

"Senator, our instruments have not detected the use of the green light for some time now," one of Senator Yat's subordinates reported, "We believe that your son is either off-world or…"

"While it pains me to think it, Captain, Daxam might be **better off** if Sodam had **perished**," Senator Yat replied. He took heavy breathes between his words; his old lungs were still readjusting to working without Valor's yellow light. "Then, with any luck, his ring would choose one of us, one **more willing** to serve Daxam instead of his own **whimsical desires**."

"But sir, he is your **son**…"

"My personal feelings are **unimportant**," he admonished the captain, "I am a **Senator** of Daxam, and my **duty** is to **my people**."

He coughed. Even with the yellow light's power, the weight of the planet was always difficult to bear.

"We need Valor's light, its true light. We can't live in fear, Captain, not **again,** not **anymore**."

"We'll find a way, Senator, we always have."

"But can we do so before our enemies return…?"

As if on cue, Senator Yat caught a small yellow flicker at the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he began to hope, but he knew better. He knew what it was.

"SOUND THE ALARMS, CAPTAIN! THE SINESTRO CORPS HAS RETURNED!"

_Diro Yat of the planet Daxam…_

The small flicker broke through a nearby window. It was a yellow ring, and it found its way on to one of Senator Yat's fingers. He struggled to remove it, but the ring wouldn't budge. Before he knew it, he was **up in the sky**. As the stars flew across him, he knew he should've been afraid, but he could not help being if only a little uplifted: He was **flying** again.

His sliver of joy was ended, however, when he landed on his destination.

"Where am I?"

000000000

_Korugar. Sector 1417. Homeworld of the Sinestro Corps._

" ."

_Arkillo. Sector 674. Drill Instructor_.

"GET AWAY FROM ME, ALIEN SCUM."

With all his might, Yat threw a punch at the beast that had once terrorized his beloved Daxam and sent **Arkillo** flying. Yat's breathing hastened. He flew towards the beast to finish it, but before he could strike once more, a yellow barrier blocked his path.

"Having trouble with our new recruit, Arkillo?"

_Sinestro._

"If Mongul wishes to retake my planet, at least grant me the honor of dying with my people."

The new arrival forced out a laugh.

"I do not take kindly to insults from **my corpsmen**, Senator, and even less so from new recruits, but I shall humor you this once. The brute Mongul was a pretender **unfit** to lead my Corps, and he was **dealt with** accordingly. Things are as they should be, and I am, as I always have been and will forevermore be, the leader of **my **Sinestro Corps."

"Then I implore you, sir, to leave my planet in peace."

"I have no desire to restore the **chaos** my corps had inflicted on Daxam, Senator. My business for now is not with your planet, Senator; it is with **you**. In spite of whatever office you hold on Daxam, your place is at the **bottom** here. You **will obey** your drill instructor, and you will obey **me**."

Only now had Yat noticed that he was no longer adorned in the robes of his office but a black and blue jumpsuit made by the ring on his hand. He looked at it and saw the symbol of his planets' invaders.

"Why have you chosen me?"

Another laugh escaped Sinestro's lips, this one showing a bit more amusement than the last.

"Is it not obvious? You have seen the power your race possesses, and you yourself are… uniquely gifted. Fear powers these rings, Senator. Your race's Xenophobia has been maintained, if not strengthened, over the years **by your leadership**. Few can inspire their own people to **fall to their deaths** out of that fear.

"You have the ability to **instill great fear**, Senator. Welcome to my **Sinestro Corps**."


	2. Xenophobia  Part 2

**Tales of the Sinestro Corps # 2**

**Xenophobia – Part 2**

**Enter Scarecrow**

Korugar. Sector 1417. Homeworld of the Sinestro Corps.

An artist without color, a musician without melody, a writer without words, Diro Yat, under the painful heat of the red sun lamps that stifled his magnificent power, focused on the one thing that remained:

**Fear.**

It was not difficult for him, as he was trapped in a strange world inhabited by strange **aliens**, all of which he **despised**.

The yellow ring around his finger sparked to life, and Diro Yat's fears were **made into light**. A beast of solid yellow light appeared before him, and he willed it to attack. The beast flew through the air, crushed the feeble yellow construct that stood before it, and kept on going.

And before he knew it, the test was over: He had **survived** and the recruit opposite him **had not**.

"Skklllgggooooodd," the beast said, looking amused by his likeness as Yat's construct dissipated. Even among those recruits more exposed to other races, the appearance of their drill instructor in solid yellow light was common.

Arkillo's expression went unnoticed by Yat, however. He could never tell these different **races** apart, much less the different **faces** within each race, much less the different **expressions** within each face. Nor did he care to. To him, each race was equally **grotesque** and equally **unworthy** before Daxam.

_Corpsman 1760_. _Report to the Archive Tower_.

000000000

The first thing Diro Yat noticed was the **smell**: like the flora used in burial rites in back on Daxam, then the **sites**: the **Archive Tower** looked like a cross between a museum and a laboratory with depictions of fears that have **paralyzed** civilizations beside scattered books and notes filled with equations and formulae, and last came the feeling: a **chill** up his spine. While he had been surrounded by the very aliens he had despised for some time now, this place, more than any other he had been taken to since his abduction, **unnerved** him.

At the end of the hall, he saw a man working in the dim light. Upon first inspection, Yat thought him to be a prisoner as well as he was shackled by a yellow chain of solid light. On the man's desk, there were vials and flasks of colorful liquids and chemical apparatuses. These, however, were not the focus of Yat's attention. Beside the man stood was a crude figure hanging on a pole that looked like it was made to **scare** animals or little children. Even in this **surreal **setting, the figure seemed out of place yet oddly **familiar**, like something one would more likely find in the vast farmlands of Daxam.

_Jonathan Crane. Sector 2814. Keeper of the Book of Parallax._

"Ah… Accursed **machine**," the man scolded his ring, as he rose from his work to face his visitor, "Dr. Crane stayed on Earth to continue his **mundane** existence among the planet's **boring** population. He turned his back on his fears, while I embraced them. **I** am the Scarecrow."

Scarecrow extended a skinny hand to Yat, and he took it.

"Oww…" Scarecrow said, pulling his hand back, "Yes, Arkillo mentioned your **uncanny** abilities Senator Yat. I should've had those red sun lamps installed."

Yat nodded absentmindedly, his gaze still transfixed on the figure beside the man's desk.

"Ah, you like my suit," Scarecrow said, delightedly, "I had originally thought to change the design into something more appropriate, but to my **pleasant** surprise, the scarecrow seems to be **common** among many cultures across the different sectors," he paused before chuckling a little, "Not that matters beyond **your** planet would concern **you**, of course Senator. I suppose we had best get to business. I'd offer you a seat, but they only gave me one chair."

Thoughtlessly, Yat's ring produced a yellow replica of the chair he had used in his office back home.

"**Impressive**, Senator. I have seen few other recruits wield the ring so proficiently."

Scarecrow took his seat once more, and it was only then that Yat was able to take a good look at him. He looked thin and pale, almost sickly. His rational mind could not imagine how this man could **instill** great fear in others, and yet **he**, like the tower itself, unnerved him.

"My **former** colleagues would ask for your permission to record this session, but I never really made a habit of that," Scarecrow began, as he put a tome, to which the golden chain Yat saw earlier bound him, on his table, " Besides, the **Book of Parallax**, will record your story whether you like it or not. I just like to keep my own records for my **personal** research."

He then took a crude looking device out of his pocket and placed it beside the tome.

"So, Senator, how are you today?"

"Heh. How do you **think**?"

"Well, I have a number of very **interesting** hypotheses, Sentaor, but I can't know for sure unless you tell me."

He paused a moment.

"Hmm… Are you **uncomfortable**, Senator?"

"Considering that I've been taken here **against my will**, I find it **difficult** to believe that my comfort would be of any concern to you **aliens**."

"On the contrary, Senator, your comfort is of utmost importance to me. Neither of us will stand to benefit from this session if we aren't **completely** honest with each other. And besides, I do not appear so **different** from you, do I? We have roughly the same skin pigmentation, the same general anatomical structure, and if your **son** is any indication, we had the same hair color once upon a time. The only difference, I suppose, is that **you** could tear me limb from limb under yellow sunlight."

Scarecrow chuckled a bit before continuing.

"So clearly, you have nothing to **fear **from me, Senator," he said, with his smile not escaping his lips, "Though I do **wonder**… Is **that** what you fear? Aliens?"

"I **loathe** aliens. Daxam is the proudest civilization this **universe** has ever seen. The **hubris** these other races show in thinking themselves our equals **disgusts** me, when in truth, they all **envy** Daxam."

"Yes… **Envy**…" Scarecrow mulled, "Envy which leads to **greed**, which in turn leads one to **steal**. Perhaps that then is what you fear, Senator. You fear **loss**. But what has been stolen from you? Your power?"

"**OUR PRIDE**! I could care less about these powers, but without them, my people are **pathetic**. They look to the stars in **awe** of the aliens and their **exotica**, and worse, they **aspire** to be** like them** when we **alone** have **true** civilization in the universe. We once thought ourselves a mighty people, and if cheap **parlor tricks** are what it takes for us to think so once more, then **so be it**."

"And I thought Sinestro was our **führer**."

Senator Yat was silent.

"Thank you, Senator. That was very **enlightening**," Scarecrow said, thinking the better of explaining that he had just compared Yat to one of his aliens, "Your case is an **archetypical** one and yet one that **few **have been able to study. I must say I feel quite **privileged**. I do hope that you **survive** what is to come."

"What do you mean?"

"Follow me."

000000000

"I was not meant to be a permanent addition to the Sinestro Corps, but when the time for rebuilding came after the fall of Nekron, Sinestro felt that the training process for new corpsmen was **flawed**. It **irked** him that **weaklings** like **Amon Sur** of Ungara, a deserter and the corpsman of my sector before me, were able to survive a process meant to leave the **strong** and **weed out** the rest"

Yat answered with a cough.

"Ah, it seems you don't like the odor of my **fear gas**," Scarecrow said before taking in a deep breath himself, "You see the **final trial** for all corpsmen is to face their **greatest fears**. But the thing about the mind is that it does not know itself. What one **thinks **is his greatest fear is usually another person or a thing, but such fears are **crude**. What people truly fear are **ideas**. They may not make the best horror films, and they may not illicit much fright initially, but ideas **haunt** you. Look no further than Amon Sur himself, for example. They say he faced the Green Lantern **Hal Jordan** for his trial. He, an **Ungaran** for whom death was rare due to his race's regenerative abilities, deserted when he had learned that the **Guardians** had authorized lethal force against us. He **truly** feared **death**, and by a Green Lantern's hand, he met it.

He shook his head in disgust.

"Such ideas may start as mere **anxiety**, but they can come to **dominate** you, and with my fear gas subtly increasing your anxiety, your **latent** fears, stimulated by our discussion earlier, should be coming out."

He took another deep breath.

"This gas is too weak to do anything to me, but with stronger doses, recruits wouldn't even make it up these stairs," he lamented.

The two reached the top of a staircase and entered a chamber filled with what looked like shells.

"These are **Fear Lodges**. Every potential corpsman is placed inside one with a drained power ring to face his greatest fear. The only way to **free** yourself is to **master** that fear and use it to **spark** your ring. Those who **cannot** escape **die** within."

Scarecrow took Yat's hand and placed it on the Book.

_Warning. Power levels approaching zero-point-zero per…_

One of Fear Lodges opened before Yat.

"In you go, Senator."

"Wait. You just told me all of your tricks. That should make them less effective on me."

Scarecrow paused.

"Hmm… I never thought of that, Senator. I suppose you're right, but then again, I've done the same with **everyone** I've brought up here, and **none** have come out yet."

Yat paused. He gazed into the Fear Lodge. **Darkness** gazed back.

"I truly wish you the best, Senator. It would be a terrible **shame** to waste a **subject** like you," Scarecrow said as he departed, "Oh, and **if** you come out, do tell me what you **see**."

00000000

Yat walked into the darkness, and when it seemed like he had been walking **forever**, he saw a light. He approached it, and soon he could see the world around him. It was… strange: **foreign** yet somehow… **familiar**. The designs of the buildings he saw were new to him, yet he seemed to know where he was going. As he went further into the road, he saw more buildings, many of yet to be completed.

He stopped at one. A young **boy** was working on the building. **He** looked too familiar. It had been an **eternity**, but a **father** would never forget that face.

"Good job, Sodam!"

It was the Green Lantern **girl**. She flew to Sodam

"Thanks! We couldn't have rebuilt Daxam without you."

The girl smiled.

"You did this, Sodam. You and all of Daxam."

Sodam smiled as well, rising to take the girl's hand.

"Oh, Arisia, when I grow up, I want to be **just like you**."

"ENOUGH!"

Diro Yat flew to his son and pulled him away from the alien.

"Senator! You've returned," the girl said, "We've made very good **progress** while you were **away**."

"Leave, Arisia. Daxam does not **need** you."

"I don't know what they need, Senator, but I know what they **want**. Look around you."

He did, and to his **horror**, he saw the buildings around them for what they were: **monuments** to her, an **alien**, and before he could turn away, he was met by a fist. Next to the Lantern girl, he saw what his son his son would **become**: a grown, a Green Lantern, one of **them**.

In his **rage**, he struck Arisia, and she fell, but before he could **finish** her, Sodam took him down. He tried to rise, but Sodam held him in place. As he struggled, he saw more and more hands holding him down, hands of his **fellow Daxamites**, and in the horizon, he saw more aliens of every form **descend** from the sky. **He** could've stopped this. **He** was their teacher, their guide, their light. **He** could've made them see their own greatness and rise above.

A leader without followers, a guardian without strength, prophet without hope, Diro Yat, under the painful heat of the red sun that stifled his magnificent power, focused on the one thing that remained:

**Fear.**

He looked up, and where there once was red, there was now **yellow**.

000000000

The fear lodge opened. Diro Yat emerged.

**In blackest day, in brightest night,**

**Beware your fears made into light.**

**Let those who try and stop what's right.**

**Burn like his power, Sinestro's might.**

No longer a recruit, no longer a senator, no longer a slave, Diro Yat was now clothed in the yellow and black of the Sinestro Corps. His ring sparked to life.

_Senator this is Captain Raiken, please respond._

"What is it, Captain?"

_You've been gone for a month. We thought your communicator was destroyed. Are you hurt?_

_ "_It is, but I'm fine. What has happened on **Daxam**, Captain?"

_Your son, sir. He has returned._


End file.
